


The feeling remains, even after the glitter fades

by The_Consulting_Werewolf



Series: the Fic Fest fics [5]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Kim Joonmyun | Suho, Bottom Wu Yi Fan | Kris, Half-Alien Yifan, I Tried, M/M, Slightly Morose Junmyeon, Smut, Top Kim Joonmyun | Suho, Top Wu Yi Fan | Kris, because they switch, but - Freeform, it is also
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 07:58:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17576936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Consulting_Werewolf/pseuds/The_Consulting_Werewolf
Summary: Yifan didn't think he would fall this hard for someone so unattainable. Junmyeon didn't think he would be so willing to break all his rules for someone so forbidden.





	1. Sneaking Out

**Author's Note:**

> omg, I hope I do the prompt justice, just...T_T

Yifan stares out of the window, watching the grey snow fall from the colourless sky. His fingerless gloves move to touch the cold glass, grimy from the outside. He closes his eyes and presses his forehead on the window; he can hear the muted cacophony outside. The low buzz of the scooters zipping down the potholed streets. The vendors competing over customers. The women shouting for clients for the night; the men shouting the same. Someone blows a horn, a woman screams. Yifan opens his eyes a bit and groans. Another knocked down by the inconsiderate scooter driver, the contents of her shopping bag spilling on the dirty road. Yifan shakes his head. District 23 is always a mess, but he guesses he won’t have it any other way. He should be getting to work anyway.

He leans back from the window and looks around his room. He upturned his closet a while ago, wondering what persona he should be slipping into today. Cool and hot, mysterious and hot, or cute and hot? He trails his fingers over the loose black knitted sweater and he thinks he can make a look out of it. He chucks his robe off and comes to stand in front of the mirror, sweater in hand. He already put his leather pants on and regards himself in the mirror. His skin glows under the dim light he has hanging from the ceiling. A light golden sheen covers his entire body and if he moves under the light, you can see his skin shifting from red to pink to purple. His eyes sometimes do the same. He touches the high points of his cheek, higher than the usual human of course. He isn’t very human himself after all.

He puts on the sweater and drags it down his shoulders, wanting to show off his collarbones. He knows people go crazy for that. He chooses one dangly earring and a lip ring to accessorise. He swipes some kohl on his waterline and runs his fingers through his hair, now a burnt orange, kissing the under of his ears. His phone buzzes on the vanity and he doesn’t have to pick up to know it’s probably his boss, Baekhyun. That prick has his own ringtone; it’s a pop song from the early twenty-first century.

Yifan grabs his leather trenchcoat, and his phone before walking out of his small studio apartment. The snow doesn’t bother him, cold weather on a whole doesn’t bother him. Guess he should be thanking his mother or father, he isn’t too sure, and neither does he wishes to know.

He walks the two blocks down to his workplace, Allure, a gentleman’s pub in all of District 23. Well, it’s only a pub from the outside—Baekhyun probably runs the most elite and expensive escort service in this district and the next, and the next, and probably the next. And Yifan is easily his most expensive, and he is glad he is. At least he can afford his own place.

His journey takes him through the shopping street, the loud vendors, the screaming mother running after their errant little spawns. A tiny human-alien hybrid almost knocks into his knees. Yifan recognises the species his mother is—a reptillian from the closest galaxy most probably. Not a reptilian like him, he has some special blood, or so his friend and landlord Seunghoon says, who he finds in the small fruit shop arguing with the vendor. His precious dragonfruits are probably out of stock again. Yifan doesn’t try to engage conversation with him, just smiles and shakes his head.

The next block gets a little better, and people here are even dressed better, in a way. Yifan doesn’t see them in the usual grey drab like in the last few blocks of District 23. But, then again, people from everywhere in Seoul City come here.

Allure flashes its obnoxious neon lights down at him and he can’t help but smirk. The ten feet high letters was always ridiculous but he knows Baekhyun won’t have it any other way. He walks around the entrance and heads for the back entrance, where he finds Zitao and Chorong throw wayward clients out. Chorong spots him first and whistles, “Whoop, whoop Mr Wu, you look great!”

Yifan waves back and all he gets from Zitao is a gruff nod as the latter tries to push a man back into the street. Zitao and Chorong are the many bouncers working here, trying to keep the “cretins” away (Baekhyun’s words). Baekhyun never allows anyone who won’t pay for the rather steep entry fee, and his army of bouncers are here to ensure no one wiggles their way in.

Yifan is assaulted by the heavy bass and blacklight as soon as he steps in. He rolls his neck and takes a deep breath. He has to work this crowd right tonight, he has been eyeing those rather sexy leather lace-up boots for a while now, and a high paying client would suit him just fine. He ambles towards the bar, the bartender having already spotted him. Lalisa hands him his rum, topping it off with his favourite soda. She rakes his eyes over Yifan and grins, “That the vintage coat? You gotta take me shopping someday Wu, I swear.”

Yifan winks, “Done. Let’s go this Sunday, yeah? There will be discounts.”

Lalisa shakes his hand and lets him drink his order in peace, rushing over to make some camel milk cocktails. Yifan is about to take his first sip when he feels someone wrapping his arm around his shoulder. He doesn’t even need to look to know it is Baekhyun. His stupid cologne is as usual overpowering and terrible. Yifan wrinkles his nose and says, “How many bottles of that shit do you go through of that every week?”

“Hush, Chanyeol likes it,” Baekhyun smiles.

“I am thinking your husband might have a smelling issue,” Yifan remarks as he sips his drink.

“Anyway,” Baekhyun slaps his shoulder, “You have a client, and he paid perhaps three times the rate.” Yifan frowns; three times the usual rate? What the fuck? His scrunched eyebrows are telling because Baekhyun ends up guffawing as he slaps Yifan’s shoulders again and says, with a wink, “You will know when you see him in the VVVIP room.”

Yifan shrugs his shoulders and grabs his drink. Baekhyun leaves, disappearing into the crowd. He walks to the end of the club where heavy dark curtains scream exclusivity and secrecy. He hands his coat to the attendee behind it, who scurries away to store it somewhere. He climbs the winding stairs to the next level and the floor only has two rooms at each end of the stretch of the corridor. These rooms are reserved only for people who pay the whole exclusive, discreet package that Baekhyun charges.

There is an attendee in front of the room as well and Yifan recognises this one. Her name is Joy or something and she is new. She opens the door for him and asks, “Would you like me to bring you another drink?”

“No, it’s okay,” Yifan smiles back. She is pretty, he wonders why Baekhyun doesn’t have her outside like Lalisa.

She nods and closes the door behind him. Yifan finds his client for the night and he whistles when he understands what Baekhyun said by “You will know”.

The man looks up from the drink in his hand and Yifan grins, “What is someone like you doing so far from home, your, uh, highness?”

The man smirks, and Yifan has to admit, he is even more handsome in real life, “Just call me Junmyeon for tonight, I think I paid for that even.”

There is a sort of tiredness in his eyes masked by the arrogance that Yifan can tell is flailing. Yifan takes a good look at him and the man keeps looking right back and for a moment, Yifan forgets what he came to do here.

 

Junmyeon watches the grey snow fall from the sad colourless sky perched on the foot of his bed. His bare toes curl into the carpet under his feet. He has been told this carpet is fancy, expensive, made by some carpet merchant from some far-flung country. There are pretty patterns swirling through the thing in yellow, red and blue. He would say there is good craftsmanship in it but he is not interested. It still reminds him that he doesn’t belong here in this world.

There is a knock on his door, too faint, properly discreet and he clears his throat, “Come in.”

A manservant steps in and bows before he says, “Your Highness, the Queen Mother requests your presence at dinner tonight.”

Junmyeon raises his eyebrow; the Queen Mother wants him to sit at the same table with him? He has been here for three years and this is the first time the Queen has requested for his presence. He gets wary next. He doesn’t trust that woman one bit; she is the one who dragged him from his simple life in District 24 to the Central City. And he was happy there, happier than how he is here at the castle now.

The manservant, who Junmyeon recognises to as someone named Jaemin, is a young boy who seems half afraid of Junmyeon most of the time. He can’t blame the kid; Junmyeon really hasn’t tried to be nice to anyone in this place. He doesn’t belong here no matter what his pedigree and everyone knows that. Jaemin clears his throat and says, “Your Highness, would you like me to get your dinner dress?”

Junmyeon sighs and shakes his head. “Okay, go ahead.”

“Alright, Your Highness.”

Jaemin disappears into the colossal walk-in closet and Junmyeon stays put on the bed. He hears the kid rustling through clothes and drawers. Jaemin exits the closet after some minutes and he is holding a simple burgundy suit and a light cream shirt with a smile. He asks, “Will this do Your Highness?” He looks over his shoulder and says, “I also pulled out some suede shoes with gold embroidery. I think it will go well with the suit, but if you don’t—”

Junmyeon gets to his feet and shakes his head, “No that’s fine.” He takes the suit and shirt from Jaemin’s hand and says, “You are dismissed. Call me when it is time.”

Jaemin makes himself scarce and Junmyeon gets about preparing himself for what is going to be the most stressful dinner of his life—he is certain. He finishes his shower and gets dressed. He finds the shoes Jaemin had pulled out for him and he approves of the boy’s choice. He slips them on and goes on about to dry his hair when he hears knocking again. Jaemin has come to collect him.

Junmyeon follows the boy down carpeted corridors lighted by bright orange lamps. Junmyeon hates the colour and the strange sickly sweet smell that always seems to wrap around the entire property. They go down two flights of stairs before they reach the main foyer where Junmyeon finds his half-brother waiting for him.

Jungwoo jerks his head up when he hears footsteps and he looks unsure of how to react. He manages a smile as he bows, “Evening brother.”

“Evening Prince Jungwoo,” Junmyeon greets back.

“Uh,” Jungwoo coughs and scratches the back of his neck. “I have told you to not call me prince, brother. You can call me by my name, I wouldn’t mind.”

Junmyeon shoves his hands in his pockets and nods. “I keep forgetting, sorry, Jungwoo.” Junmyeon knows it is not the kid’s fault he is so awkward. Junmyeon knows Jungwoo tries to know him, understand him. It’s just Junmyeon has made walls around his mind and heart so high that he knows no one will be ever to scale them. He sends his half-brother a small smile instead of trying to talk again.

The doors to the dining hall open and more servants spill out of it. Jungwoo and Junmyeon step in and they find the table with four seating arrangements. Jungwoo asks, “Do we have company?”

One of the servants steps forward and answers, “Your Highness Prince Jungwoo, mister Lu is here from China. He arrived this morning.”

Junmyeon frowns; Mr Lu, or Lu Han, the man responsible for bringing him here. Junmyeon doesn’t like him, never has, never will. The princes take their seats and the doors open to Lu Han entering and Junmyeon tries to rein back the contempt and rage he feels for the man. If it wasn’t for the Chinese man, he would still be at home, in his poverty and squalor—and he is not grateful, not one bit.

Lu Han greets Jungwoo and sends Junmyeon a smile, which Junmyeon is sure Lu Han finds friendly but Junmyeon doesn’t. Lu Han is a political fixer, he goes about cleaning up after important people. His soft, amiable features, twinkling eyes and genial smile can’t fool Junmyeon. He is making light conversation with Jungwoo, but Junmyeon is seething. His dead father just had to go and make a will to find his first-born. The first-born that he abandoned because the mother was a low-born human.

The Queen Mother arrives and all the men stand in her presence. She asks them to sit down and the people in-waiting scurry forward with the first course of dinner. Lu Han is the one mostly talking, Jungwoo follows second and the Queen barely adds anything. Junmyeon is silent throughout and by the time dessert arrives, Lu Han finally notices. He looks at the older prince and asks, “So, Prince Junmyeon, how have you been?”

Junmyeon puts on his fake smile and says, “I am fine.”

“Been a while since you have been here, right?”

Junmyeon wants to answer but he notices that the queen is paying attention now. Here they go again. Junmyeon says, “Three years to be exact, mister Lu.”

The queen now addresses Junmyeon, “I didn’t want a conversation like that here, but I need to ask the Prince as well—”

Junmyeon interjects, “And my answer remains the same. I will not take the throne.”

The queen frowns, her eyes flashing in contempt as usual. She hates Junmyeon and the feeling is mutual. She obviously wants her son on the throne and not Junmyeon but royal wills are apparently non-negotiable. “You are the firstborn.”

Junmyeon wipes his mouth with the napkin and smiles, slowly getting to his feet. He looks directly at the queen and says, “No, you know my answer. It will not change. Good night.”

Junmyeon leaves the dining room first, breaking all rules because the queen leaves first but he can’t be bothered. He notices Jaemin following him but he turns around and dismisses him. He needs to leave; he needs to go see the outside world. It has been a month since he stepped out of this castle. Usually, if he needs to leave, he needs to take a whole entourage with him. But he knows his ways. So, enters the kitchen and locates the trap door to the basement. He pays the cook as usual and slips through the door and from there, he just needs to find the ladder going up.

The ladder leads to another trap door and it opens to the back garden, where security is lax and the boundary wall easy to scale. Junmyeon didn’t live all his life in a slum to suddenly forget how to sneak off from places he doesn’t want to be. His suit is spoiled a little but he dusts it off and jumps down to the narrow lane running by the wall.

As he walks down the lane, he wonders where he can go. He thinks about District 23 for a second. He finds a hover cab and flags it down. As a prince, he carries his gold express card with him everywhere, so the hour-long drive from the Central City doesn’t dent his sudden large allowance now. He leans back in the car as it flies through the air and slowly, he sinks into an uneasy sleep.

He dreams about his dead mother, their small one room, tin-roofed house. He dreams about the small patch of wildflowers that would grow out of the crack in the pavement in front of his house. He dreams about the freedom he had, running around with his friends, doing odd jobs for the departmental store or the apothecary. He was free then, and now, he is just a glorified prisoner.

When he wakes up, he finds he is entering the neon-infested section of District 23. The first thing he sees is a giant billboard advertisement of some club called Allure. He taps the driver on his shoulder and asks, pointing at the advertisement, “You know where that is?”

“Sure do,” the driver says.

Ten minutes later, the driver pulls in front of a club, the word Allure blinding Junmyeon. He enters the club and the entry fee is paid when a short man dressed in a leopard print suit notices him. Junmyeon sees the flash of recognition in his eyes and the man quickly jumps on him and grins, “Now, wow, we don’t get clients of your esteem here, my dear Prince.”

“Can I pay you to not take my name here?” Junmyeon asks, annoyed.

The man smiles and bows, “Of course you can. My name is Baekhyun by the way, how may I serve?”

Junmyeon realised the moment he stepped inside that this wasn’t just a club. He could see men and women of every species in various stages of undress and intoxication grinding against each other. It is a sex club and Junmyeon has seen a few, almost worked in one when his mother got sick. He flashes his card and says, “Give me your most private room and your highest paid male escort.” If he is here, might as well try to get laid, Junmyeon muses.

Baekhyun’s eyes gleam when he sees the card and he takes it carefully, his cheeks lifting as he says, “Of course.” He snaps his fingers and a woman appears. “Joy, take him upstairs, to the black rooms.”

The woman named Joy beckons Junmyeon to follow her and Junmyeon follows her to the very back, beyond heavy velvet curtains and up spiral stairs. The area seems deserted and Junmyeon decides he likes it. Joy shows him to a room and Junmyeon sits down, sighing, his body sinking into the black leather couch. The woman asks, “Drink, sir?”

“Just some whiskey on rocks, I don’t have a preference.”

He is nursing his second drink when the doors open. Junmyeon looks up when he hears the man whistling. The man grins, “What is someone like you doing so far from home, your, uh, highness?”

Junmyeon smirks, “Just call me Junmyeon for tonight, I think I paid for that even.” He looks at the man properly. He doesn’t seem human, not entirely. His cheekbone structure is off and his skin emits a muted golden glow. His eyes too seem to shift colours under the light. And he is tall, very tall.

“Alright then. That won’t get me hanged for treason or something, will it?” the man asks as he takes his jacket off.

Junmyeon rakes his gaze over the lithe, firm body. He chuckles, “No, it won’t. You have my word. What’s your name?”

“Yifan.” He folds the jacket and puts it down at the end of the seat. He saunters over and Junmyeon is staring at the way the light makes his skin look slightly more iridescent pink or purple. The male is astonishingly perfect with his face and body. Junmyeon can understand why he came so expensive. Yifan brushes over the shoulder of Junmyeon’s suit jacket and hums, “Hmm, so how do you want me, mister?”

Junmyeon looks the tiniest bit lost, Yifan thinks as he tilts his head and blinks up at him. Yifan knows he has a presence and people are usually speechless but Junmyeon looks unsure, like he probably has never done this before (Yifan doesn’t know how royalty works, excuse me)s. Yifan takes a moment to look at Junmyeon, biting his lips. The prince is good-looking, but Yifan already knew that. His face had been plastered everywhere on the occasion of his birthday five months ago. He has a strong jawline, flawless skin and really pretty lips. His hair is styled up but he must have been running his fingers through his hair since a few strands kiss his eyebrows, fall into his deep brown eyes. Yifan smirks, tonight can be fun, he hasn’t had a client this attractive in a while.

Yifan inches closer, muttering, “You can touch me.”

Junmyeon looks up, his eyebrow raised, probably trying gauge how that statement applies. So, he raises his hand and places it on the back of Yifan’s thigh. The leather is soft under his hand and his skin is warm, warmer than usual. He mutters, “Nice pants.”

Yifan chuckles, “Thanks.” He licks his lips and moves on to straddle Junmyeon, who is surprised at that. His Adam’s apple bobs as he widens his eyes up at Yifan. His hand rests on top of Yifan’s thigh, closely watching as to how Yifan twists his body and picks the glass of whiskey up. The sweater stretches, showing off his collarbones and when he turns back around, he can see Junmyeon’s eyes latched on his neck (making Yifan smirk some more). He takes a sip of the drink and hums when the smooth, cool liquid runs down his throat. “Baekhyun did bust out the best for you.”

Junmyeon smiles up at him, tilting his head back. He takes the glass from Yifan’s long, tapered fingers. Junmyeon notices the lip ring as Yifan licks his lower lip, and this close, he sees how the colour of Yifan’s eyes change from green to gold. It is sort of mesmerising, and Junmyeon finds it hard to look away. Yifan too stares back unabashedly and the air between them suddenly feels too hot, too charged. He puts the glass to his lips and takes a small sip. Yifan puts his hands on his shoulders again and says, “Can I touch you?”

Junmyeon leans back, sliding down the couch to get comfortable and Yifan too settles in, curving forward till his back is bowed. He nods and Yifan tries to slip the jacket off his shoulders. Junmyeon helps him along and Yifan is gentle as he folds the jacket and places it on the cushions. Yifan puts his hands back on Junmyeon’s shoulders again and says, “You have nice shoulders, by the way.”

Junmyeon scoffs, “That is a weird compliment.”

“No, I like pointing out things I like in people. And you are like, all over nice.”

Junmyeon’s smile softens. He wonders if this high-priced escort would be saying the same thing if he ever saw him when he used to live back in District 24 and the shirt he is wearing now would cost him a years’ salary. He raises his hand higher and touches the tip of Yifan’s hair, which is a fiery orange and he finds it every soft under his fingertips. He asks, suddenly curious, “May I ask what are you? If I am not being too offensive—”

Yifan waves his hand, smiling. “No, that’s not offensive. I get that question a lot.” He rolls his neck, closing his eyes, and when he opens it again, Junmyeon gasps when he sees how his pupils have changed—they are no longer round but are now slits. The high points of his face too look sharper and shine a dull gold. He exhales through his nose and Junmyeon can see smoke curling out of it. Junmyeon touches the lip ring and a tongue darts out to brush it. Junmyeon’s surprise only increases when he sees Yifan’s tongue isn’t ordinary either but forked. He murmurs, “You are Dragonkin.”

Yifan nods, forcing his eyes to return to normal. His pupils are round again as he says, “Yes, only partly.”

Junmyeon’s hand moves, his palm cupping Yifan’s cheek.  Yifan’s skin still shimmers gold and Junmyeon is awed, perhaps a little enchanted. He whispers, “You are beautiful.”

Yifan’s gaze mollifies slightly. He can see Junmyeon is sincere and it makes him blush. He presses his fingers into Junmyeon’s flesh and kneads gently. Junmyeon sort of melts under the touch and he sighs. Yifan chuckles, “Wow, being a prince is hard work, eh?”

Junmyeon hoods his eyes and the smile drops from his face even though he tries to hide it. “Oh, it is not a life I want.”

Yifan hums, “That is sad but what do I know.” He presses his knuckles into the shoulders again. “Here, let me help you relax, hmm?”

Junmyeon grins, “Why not.”

Yifan pops open the first few buttons and he almost licks his lips, wanting to know how the smooth, pale skin tastes like. The prince throws his head back and sighs as Yifan gets to do just that. He obviously doesn’t leave marks but he gently nips along the neck and down the sternum. Yifan’s hand brush over his crotch and stays there, the heel of his palm pressing down lightly. Junmyeon groans, sinking his fingers into Yifan’s hair as the pressure on his groin increases.

Yifan flicks his tongue along Junmyeon’s ear lobe and watches the man melt further under his ministrations. He unzips the pants and slips his hand under, making a ring around Junmyeon’s cock. He strokes harder, faster and Junmyeon moans. Junmyeon feels good, _relaxed_ after days of denying himself of someone’s touch. His other hand squeezes Yifan’s shoulder, his skin on fire. Then, Yifan’s weight leaves his lap and he looks down to find Yifan scrambling down the couch and getting on his knees. Yifan smirks, “Watch me.”

Junmyeon nods, a little amused as to why but he does what is told. He spreads his legs a little and Yifan leans on his thighs, his palms splayed on the muscles now straining under the expensive fabric. Yifan pulls the pants down his legs and briefly, Junmyeon wonders how the whole world would react if they got to know how the first-born prince of the nation—born of a family obsessed with blood purity—is now getting off with the help of a Halfling.  

Yifan puts his lips on the tip of Junmyeon’s cock, his fingers circling the root and he moves it to the middle, slightly squeezing. Junmyeon groans and Yifan smirks a little before he flicks his tongue out and licks the tip. He parts his lips and engulfs the tip with his mouth. The tight wet heat of his mouth feels amazing already and Junmyeon is so glad he snuck out today.

Yifan licks down the side of the shaft and Junmyeon understands why Yifan told him to watch. His forked tongue is a new sensation entirely on his cock and Junmyeon decides he likes it. He mouths down the shaft till he is at Junmyeon’s balls and tugs them in his mouth. He leans back, grinning up at Junmyeon, who looks so pretty under the lights with his flushed face. Yifan returns to lick down the side and then at the tip, licking the tip. He splays his hand on Junmyeon’s thigh, his nails scratching the smooth skin. Blood rushes faster in his body and Junmyeon feels too hot suddenly.

Junmyeon almost keens off the couch when Yifan starts sucking on his balls as his hand keeps stroking the shaft up and down. Yifan swallows down his cock, the tip almost touching the back of his throat. He picks up a pace and it is fast and dirty and Junmyeon tries very hard to not buck his hips up. Yifan’s tongue is working magic with such expertise that Junmyeon wonders how long he will last. He looks down and finds Yifan with his eyes shut as he bobs his head and moves his hand, the foreskin pulling back and forth.

Yifan opens his eyes again and they make eye contact. Yifan smiles up, his cheeks flushed as he removes his mouth and licks at the vein under his cock. He speaks and his voice sounds raspy as he says, “You can use me.” He takes one of Junmyeon’s hands and puts it on his head. Junmyeon gets it and he puts both of his hands in Yifan’s hair and grabs the roots. He braces himself and pushes Yifan’s head down his cock. He is worried Yifan may not be able to take it but the man doesn’t complain and makes some sinful groaning noises as Junmyeon’s cock slips in and out of his mouth. Junmyeon halts for a moment, his cock touching the back of Yifan’s throat and the latter swallows, his throat clamping down and Junmyeon moans.

Yifan pulls back, the precum and saliva mixing as he raises his head. The shiny liquid drips down his chin and his lips are swollen and red. There are spots of red high on his cheeks and Junmyeon deems this is the most sinful thing he has seen in some time. Yifan cups the head and flicks his wrist as he strokes down and up again. The precum slides down his cock and Yifan collects it, smearing it down the length of it and strokes it harder, faster. His mouth latches back on to Junmyeon’s cock and goes down till his nose hits the bone. Junmyeon throws his head back and moans loudly.

Junmyeon knows he is close, and when Yifan uses his fingers to tug at his balls and press against his perineum, Junmyeon shudders as he feels the tension in his abdomen spring back and breaks. He empties into Yifan’s mouth, who gags for a second before swallowing it down. He keeps milking Junmyeon’s orgasm and when he is done, he pulls back. Some of the semen drips down his lips and Yifan quietly licks it, a small grin on his face.

Junmyeon brushes the errant strands of hair off Yifan’s eyes and grins, “I think, I will be coming back here.” Yifan grins back and his eyes sparkle. There is something in them and Junmyeon realises he _will_ be coming back indeed.


	2. Coming back (with a kiss)

It has been a week since Yifan met the prince and he is in his apartment now, watching the news. He has an off day today, so decided to lay around, order takeout and do nothing for the whole day. And his plan was going well so far till he was browsing through the channels on his television. He has one of those early models where the screen was curved and you could turn the pictures on the screen into a hologram if you wished. He has no use for the projection part but it was a bargain, so he likes it.

The news anchor is a half-Imostir, Yifan can tell due to the light blue skin and silver pupils. The anchor talks about the impending succession and how the royal family was delaying it for some reason. They showed some video of Junmyeon walking downstairs and Yifan has to pause the telecast. He uses the hologram projection thing for the first time and watches in awe as a small Junmyeon shows up in the middle of his room.

Junmyeon is handsome, even in grainy quality. He is dressed in a tuxedo and his hair is pushed back. He is not smiling though and the serious intensity in his eyes makes Yifan feel nervous even though Junmyeon isn’t looking at him. He remembers his client well. He remembers how he offered to help Yifan as well (he had popped a boner some time while sucking Junmyeon off) and Yifan was touched. No one has ever offered. He was unsure and shy about it but Junmyeon eased him down on his lap and slowly stroked him off, not even caring that Yifan ruined his shirt. He just laughed and that made Yifan’s guts twist in some weird way. The prince had a nice laugh, and he looked cute when he did so. He lost that desolate, lonely look in his eyes that Yifan noticed he put on the moment he bid Yifan goodbye.

He paid well and even left Yifan a tip, which was more than what he earns in tips in a week. He kept hoping Junmyeon returns for the whole week but he understands he is the crown prince and he probably has duties and appearances to keep. And a prince appearing in Allure is not the very best thing.

Yifan un-pauses the news and the anchor moves on to some sports update but Yifan isn’t paying attention any more. He decides to go look Junmyeon up. He reaches for his glass tab and types in the name in the search bar. As he reads through various articles, he is surprised to learn that no one knew of his existence before he suddenly showed a few years ago. The queen said he was in training in some foreign school and he was cut off from the world because she wanted him to be ready and educated before taking the throne. Yifan finds that a little strange.

He does wish Junmyeon returns though. He grins, wondering how much more Junmyeon will tip if they moved on to much more _interesting_ things. He pulls up this image from the web and stares at it for some time. The prince has to be one of the most beautiful faces he had ever seen. Then, he remembers that carefree laugh and his heart skips a beat. Yifan shakes his head, biting his lips as he tries to not smile. He doesn’t have a crush on the prince now, does he?

 

Junmyeon returned, over and over again. He couldn’t come every day, obviously, or every week, and he had to be clever. If anyone figured out where he was going, he would be done for (but he may not care about that detail too much). The first time they fuck is amazing. Yifan is flexible in unimaginable ways and Junmyeon takes him more than once that night. The pleasure, the desire he feels for the strange Halfling is special and he realises it. Yifan gives but he knows when to take too and Junmyeon loves it.

There is something about Yifan and his deep, multihued eyes. He knows what Junmyeon wants. He would understand the weight on Junmyeon’s shoulders is more than what the other lets on. He would happily distract Junmyeon with his lips, hands and body.

It has been two weeks since he had been at Allure, two months since he started coming here. He had sent word across to Baekhyun already, so Yifan is there waiting in the black room, this time dressed in a sheer black shirt with flowers embroidered on it and plain black jeans. His hair is short and brown today and Junmyeon thinks he looks fantastic. Yifan smiles when he sees his favourite customer enter. He likes Junmyeon, and he is almost afraid he would mean it. Junmyeon isn’t demanding and he is gentle, and that translates to when they fuck. He could become rough when he needs to and Yifan likes edging that out of him.

Yifan remains seated, all lazy and sweet, and Junmyeon scoffs, taking his jacket and tie off. He sits down on top of Yifan, straddling his thighs. They don’t kiss, they never kiss—always feeling that it would be too personal, too intimate when they are trying to not learn more. Junmyeon cups his face, his fingers gently tracing the cheekbones, the sharp nose and the small, plump lips. Yifan parts his lips and Junmyeon slips his thumb inside. Yifan sucks on it, and Junmyeon feels the heat coiling in his guts at it. He noses along Yifan’s jawline and the latter’s scent is intoxicating. It is a strange mix of musk and vanilla, and Junmyeon loves it. He licks the side of Yifan’s neck and Yifan groans a little, his hands coming to rest on his hips, his fingers digging deep into his flesh.

Junmyeon scrambles down his lap and orders, his voice low and husky, “Lie down.”

Yifan does as he is told and lies on the seat. It is long enough and broad enough to have him lie down comfortably. Junmyeon splays his hand on the base of his throat and then brings his hand down, resting at Yifan’s chest. He can feel the dull thud of Yifan’s heart under his palm and it makes Junmyeon smile. He unbuttons the sheer shirt, and Yifan’s long, lithe torso is bare for Junmyeon to admire and touch. His nipples are perked up and Junmyeon thumbs one, flicking it. Yifan groans; Junmyeon by now has figured out he is really sensitive there. And he is also sensitive in other places that Junmyeon wants to get to, so he pushes the jeans down Yifan’s long, long legs. The Halfling isn’t wearing underwear, which is very convenient as Junmyeon spreads his legs and kisses the inside of one thigh. Yifan mutters, heaving, “You are in a mood, today, hmm?”

“I may be,” Junmyeon says, his lips moving over Yifan’s skin. He wraps his hand around Yifan’s cock and strokes it, from root to tip. Junmyeon watches with bated breath as Yifan arches off the couch and the gold of his skin shimmers stronger. Junmyeon leans forward and mouths along Yifan’s cock before he swipes his tongue across the rim. Yifan makes a choking sound and Junmyeon smiles into his thigh. That was liked then. He repeats his actions and Yifan moans, “Oh, Junmyeon, oh my, I—” Yifan quit forgets what he wanted to say when Junmyeon grabs his cheeks to spread them just so he can spear his tongue inside.

Junmyeon is relentless with the way he drives Yifan crazy with just his tongue. Yifan’s muscles tremble around his mouth, under his hand and it makes Junmyeon feel good that he is the one making Yifan feel good. But he has other plans too, so he raises his head and wipes the drool off his chin. Yifan pouts up at him, still panting, “Why did you stop?”

“Where’s the lube? I really want to fuck you right now,” Junmyeon whispers. Yifan’s throaty moans had all gone straight to his groin and he really wanted to sink in the heat he is getting steadily familiar with.

Yifan twists his body slightly and reaches for the lube and box of condoms under the table. This is another thing that shocked Yifan to no extent when they first met. Junmyeon insisted to prep him, which in all of Yifan’s working life has never occurred. He was dumbfounded at first but he entrusted the bottle to Junmyeon and that was the best decision ever. He hands the lube to Junmyeon and waits anxiously.

Junmyeon starts to open Yifan up in slow, deft thrusts of his finger. He finds the prostate and steadily massages it, watching Yifan fall apart under him. His bangs are stuck to his forehead, his skin is flushed and his lips are slick with saliva and parted. At this moment, Junmyeon suddenly wonders how kissing Yifan would feel like. He wonders about that a lot actually. But he can’t bring himself to do it—he is half afraid he will like kissing Yifan and he will never get enough of that. And then, he remembers who he is.

At a particular slide, Yifan groans out, “Please, please get inside me.”

Junmyeon smirks as he removes his hand and pulls Yifan’s knees up. He bends the escort in half before putting the condom on. He lathers some lube on his cock and then, inch by inch he enters Yifan. Yifan shudders as Junmyeon bottoms out and whispers, “Oh, you always feel so good…”

“Better than everyone else?” Junmyeon asks as he slowly pulls out. He doesn’t pull out all the way and thrusts back in, a bit harder.

Yifan nods his head, shutting his eyes as Junmyeon starts rocking into him after that. Junmyeon does fuck him better than everyone else. He doesn’t have a lot of clients now but with Junmyeon, the sex feels different. Mostly, perhaps, it is different because Junmyeon doesn’t chase only his pleasure—he wants Yifan to find his too and Yifan enjoys that.

The thrusts get faster and faster and Junmyeon is bent over Yifan, his teeth scraping along the side of his neck. He can’t mark Yifan of course but sometimes Yifan wishes he would. Junmyeon moves with him, inside him so perfectly. And he knows how to find the place that will reduce him to pieces, and he doesn’t know how Junmyeon can. Junmyeon starts rolling his hips and angling his thrusts, and Yifan just doesn’t want this to stop. But the tight coil of heat has been growing and growing and it burns like a volcano. He moves his hand down his body and wraps his fingers around his cock, neglected for long and so heavy in his hand. A few strokes and that heralds his undoing. His cock pulsates as he comes in long spurts.

Junmyeon follows too, his thrusts getting choppier and Yifan is sensitive but he doesn’t mind. He kneads the muscles on Junmyeon’s back and mutters low and husky, trying to get Junmyeon to his climax too. Junmyeon shudders, his abdomen tightening and Yifan licks his lips when he sees the way his muscles undulates as he cums.

He pulls out and Yifan almost complains. Junmyeon removes the condom and lies down on top of Yifan. He is much shorter than Yifan, so he fits rather nicely in Yifan’s arms, which none of them wants to think too much about it.

But the post-coital moments have turned into a bubble for them, where they can both forget that this is temporary, that Yifan will go back to his job again and that Junmyeon will return to the cold, lonely castle. Yifan wraps his arms around Junmyeon and asks, “It was two weeks this time, did you get caught or something?”

Junmyeon scoffs, “Not really. If I kept sneaking out all the time, they would know.” Junmyeon never divulges much about his life, choosing to let bits and pieces of him bare to Yifan. “I just—I hate that place.”

Yifan knows Junmyeon hates being a prince. The moments after sex are reserved for hushed conversations and Yifan likes it, likes hearing Junmyeon talk. No one much talks in this service either; Junmyeon is such a contrast to everything. Yifan asks, his fingers running through Junmyeon’s hair, “Why can’t you just leave?”

“I don’t know where I would go if I did,” Junmyeon says. He pushes himself off and sits back down on the couch. He pulls his pants up and taps on Yifan’s knee; he smiles, “Grab a drink, I can stay a bit later tonight.”

Yifan smiles as he sits up as well. He could kiss Junmyeon right now, his lips are so pink and pretty as they part as he smiles. But he can’t, so he puts his clothes back on and heads out to grab them a drink.

 

Junmyeon is at some charity event that he forgot who is hosting it. He is dressed in a dark blue velvet suit and a heavy fur jacket. He looks like the prince the world wants him to look like, and he has to thank Jaemin for coming up with this outfit too. His butler has style he obviously lacks.

He is introduced to people and he has to smile but not too much. Be stiff, be proper, never show too many teeth, and shake their hands but never for too long. So many rules, so much of etiquette he has to always remember. He hates all of this but he has to keep up appearances. He wishes he was somewhere else.

The queen hovers around him before moving away to another part of the hall they are all in. Jungwoo finds him and joins him, looking unsure. Junmyeon smiles a little, encouraging Jungwoo to come closer and nod at him. Junmyeon should at least try to be nice to Jungwoo and he feels like he may be making progress. Jungwoo usually doesn’t approach him first but he did so now, so Junmyeon thinks that is a huge improvement. They have been trying to get closer for some time and it is mostly Junmyeon seeking him out since he understood some companionship would be nice in the large, empty household.

They quietly drink and talk, and Junmyeon learns his half-brother has a quirky sense of humour. He doesn’t mind Jungwoo’s company at all. They migrate outside and the balcony is largely empty besides the smokers. Some bow at them and they bow back. The snow is settled down at the edges of the open-air balcony, and it is cold but bearable. The brother huddle closer as they peer over the railing and gaze at the twinkling city.

Jungwoo starts the topic of how the queen is looking for a consort for Jungwoo. He sighs, “I really thought I would have a choice.”

Junmyeon scoffs, “We really don’t have any choice.” He glances at Jungwoo, who looks crushed as he pouts. He asks, “Do you have anyone on your mind?”

Jungwoo gasps as he turns his head to gape at Junmyeon. His cheeks are red and that tells Junmyeon that he hit the nail. Jungwoo mutters, “Well, I do, I do like someone…”

Junmyeon laughs, shaking his head, “It is okay, I won’t tell anyone.”

Jungwoo then talks about this son of a chaebol he had been hanging around with. He seems excited and his cheeks turn red and redder as he speaks. Junmyeon is almost rooting for his brother by the end. But then, Jungwoo asks, “Do you have someone special in your life, hyung?” Junmyeon shakes his head, but Jungwoo doesn’t give up, “Oh, come on hyung! Everyone has someone! You know, someone that makes their heart beat a little faster, or being with them makes them happy, even if they are with them for five minutes!”

Junmyeon is about to laugh and say no when suddenly a certain Halfling comes to mind. He sees Yifan’s strange eyes and gummy smile in his head and his heart does beat a little faster. He swallows, wondering why he is seeing Yifan in his head but he can’t say that to anyone, so he shakes his head, “No, Jungwoo, I, unfortunately, don’t.”

 

It is another week from the charity ball before Junmyeon can sneak away. He forgot to call Baekhyun in advance and ask him if Yifan would be available. As he hails down a cab he tells himself that he will just hang around and drink if Yifan isn’t there. He just needed to leave tonight. Lu Han is back in town for some reason and he is spending way too much time with the queen deep in conversation and looking at Junmyeon all strangely. He can’t handle it anymore.

The cab arrives at Allure and he smirks when he looks up at the neon lights. It is funny how his past self would have never afforded to enter such a place or even dream about it. Maybe, being rich now has one good thing about it.

He walks in but fails to find Baekhyun. He heads over to the bar, face mask in place. He orders one whiskey neat and looks about the place. There is a myriad of species here alone. Some half-humans and some aliens, all gyrating and grinding on the floor. The poles are all occupied by dancers and one even has a long, furry tail. It is too dimly lit for Junmyeon to figure out what species though.

His drink arrives and as he takes a sip, his gaze lands on one of the booths. There are a bunch of men and women around the table and sitting on top of one of the men is Yifan. Junmyeon’s grip tightens around the glass and he frowns. His heart clenches with a wave of anger he can’t understand. He knows he has no business being jealous, but he can’t help it.

Yifan is dressed in all-black tonight. The shirt is unbuttoned to almost his navel and the light makes him glow each time he moves. His hair is longer, darker and he has it pushed back but some strands fall into his eyes and every time he smiles, Junmyeon’s gut twists. Yifan looks so far off, unreachable and Junmyeon is reminded of his past again. Reminded how if the Junmyeon of the past came here, he could never dream of having someone like Yifan.

He tells himself he will finish his drink and leave. He knocks back the drink and hops down the seat. He puts his mask back on and walks towards the entrance. He is almost there when a hand curls around his elbow. He turns around, about to admonish whoever dare touch him when he turns his head to find it is Yifan trying to stop him.

The lighting is very poor here but it cannot take away the harsh beauty of Yifan’s face, now furrowed in worry. He is biting his lips and his eyes are wide. Yifan pulls him to the side and Junmyeon follows him down a corridor. There are people here as well, making out and smoking. Yifan finds them a nook and pushes Junmyeon up against the wall. He bows his head and says, “I didn’t know you were coming. I will always refuse everyone on the days you come. I am sorry.”

Yifan’s fingers flex on Junmyeon wrist as he bows his head. The music is dulled down here and Junmyeon can hear the sincerity in Yifan’s voice. The heat of his body engulfs Junmyeon, his scent filling his senses. There is alcohol, smoke but something that is just Yifan in there too. Junmyeon sighs and pulls down his mask. He puts his hands around Yifan’s waist and pulls him close. He kisses the underside of Yifan’s ear and says, “That is okay. I usually tell Baekhyun, but I couldn’t today.”

Yifan winds his arms around Junmyeon’s shoulder and says, “But, but you were going to leave, weren’t you? You don’t come here to drink.”

Junmyeon scoffs, his hands spreading on the soft silk of Yifan’s shirt, “No, I don’t.”

Yifan nuzzles into Junmyeon’s hair as he mumbles, “You come here for me, right?”

Junmyeon’s heart clenches. He thinks back to his conversation with Jungwoo. He wonders if he should lie or not but then again, he can’t do that. With Yifan is the most honest emotion he has ever felt. So, he whispers, “I do.”

Yifan leans back and cups Junmyeon’s neck. He smirks, “Were you jealous?”

Junmyeon cocks his head to the side and the corners of his lips lift a little. Yifan’s lips are wet and they look soft, too soft today. Suddenly, they are the cynosure of Junmyeon’s attention. He raises his hand and gently rubs Yifan’s bottom lip as he admits, “Maybe I was, a little, but this is your job, I can’t complain.”

“I—” Yifan wants to find the right thing to say but he fails. Junmyeon is looking at his mouth and he bites his lip, dragging his teeth over it. Their eyes meet again and Yifan inhales deeply, his pulse suddenly too loud in his ears.

Thinking back to this moment, both would not be able to say who moved first but suddenly, it happened. The restraint snaps, the tension builds to the breaking point and their lips crash against each other.

Yifan tilts his head and licks Junmyeon’s lip, seeking entry and the latter gives, parting his lips. Their tongues brush and Junmyeon bites back the moan. It is electric, too hot under his collar and Yifan’s lips are just as _soft_ as he imagined. They are softer even and Junmyeon bites down on Yifan’s lower lip and sucks on it. Junmyeon tastes like whiskey and sweet and Yifan loves it, he realises. He pushes Junmyeon further up the wall as their lips slide and their tongues tangled. It feels so good to finally let go. He puts his hands on Junmyeon’s nape and tugs at the roots of his hair, pulling his head back so he could kiss deeper, taste every corner of his mouth.

Junmyeon had ached for this, he realises. His heart beats faster and his lungs burn, but he doesn’t want to stop. However, his head starts to feel light, so, with much disdain, he pulls back, breaking the kiss. A string of saliva connects their mouths and Junmyeon still feels dizzy as aftermath.

Yifan looks down and the desire pools in his belly when he finds how swollen and red Junmyeon’s lips have become. He wants to taste them again, wants to feel their softness again but then he remembers: he is not supposed to do this.

Yifan gasps as he steps back. Junmyeon reaches for him but his hand falls to his side as the realisation dawns on him too. His eyes widen and his breath quickens as he gapes at Yifan. They were not supposed to kiss—that was one of the unspoken rules between them. And tonight, they just broke it.

Yifan steps back again, putting a gap between him and Junmyeon, who is still looking up at him in a daze. Yifan wipes his lips with the back of his hand even if he knows he will never forget how Junmyeon’s kiss felt and tasted like. He turns around and runs down the corridor. He bumps into a few intoxicated people but he doesn’t say sorry. His lungs burn and his chest tightens with a unnamed emotion. He knew he likes Junmyeon but he kept denying it. He kept avoiding to voice how it felt when Junmyeon touched him, fucked him, smiled at him. He cannot afford to like someone he can never have—or even like a client in the first place.

Junmyeon keeps gaping as Yifan rushes off. His hand shakes as he raises it to his mouth. He can feel the puffiness of his lips and he knows if he swiped his tongue over his lips, he would still taste Yifan on it. _What has he done…_

 

It has been four days since the kiss happened and Yifan hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. He has work in an hour and he can’t bring himself to get up and get dressed. He hasn’t been to work for three days and he didn’t inform Baekhyun, so his boss is really mad at him, especially since he also deserted the clients for that night. He can’t blame Baekhyun for the mess in his head.

If he closes his eyes, he can feel Junmyeon’s lips on his, he can taste them, he can remember the press of their bodies, the heat between them, and all of that makes him mad. It makes him upset. He knew was starting to like Junmyeon, he was aware of it but he kept denying it. The feeling hovered over his head all the time, and the rational part of him reminded him that he can’t allow anyone in his heart. When he started this life at the age of twenty, he knew what he was getting into and just what would be at stake. He didn’t even date, never encouraged any of his admirers to get too close, touch him too much or kiss him. The intimacy was staged, fake, and a kiss can’t be played by him. So, now that he has kissed Junmyeon, he cannot stop berating himself.

The phone rings again; it is Baekhyun’s ringtone. Yifan doesn’t pick the phone up but he does push himself up. He puts the phone under his pillows and moves to his closet. He quickly dresses and he chooses to not dress up, or care about it even. He dresses up warm in his sweater and jacket and heads out.

It hasn’t snowed last night and the remaining snow from the day before is now grey slush on the streets. Most of the market is closed but a few are still open even though they are devoid of customers. He walks at a slow pace, dragging his feet. The air is still and cold, he is inhaling and the sting of the air makes his lungs ache a little but he can’t focus on that. The closer he gets to Allure, the tighter his chest feels.

He enters Allure through the backdoor. Chorong is there and she smiles widely, “Hey there, you okay?”

Yifan smiles, lying, “I was just a bit under the weather. I am okay now.”

Chorong widens her eyes, looking a little concerned, “You sure?” She grazes her eyes over his body and frowns, “You are dressed down today, you only do that when you are not feeling all well.”

Yifan chuckles, running his fingers through his hair. As he does so, he changes it from the drab black he had to a light platinum blond. Perks of being a chromatophore—he can change his hair colour any time he wants. “Better now?”

Chorong nods, flashing a thumbs up, “Much better.”

Yifan leaves her and enters the main floor. Baekhyun is there and he looks pissed. But he gives Yifan a once-over and the scowl melts off his face. He asks, “What’s up with you?”

Yifan sighs, “I am fine, I swear.”

Baekhyun pouts, “Uh huh, sure.”

Shop opens and Yifan isn’t too keen to engage, though Baekhyun keeps sending him looks. Yifan ignores them, taking up a drink and hiding in a nook, hoping no one notices him. He only manages to evade Baekhyun and repeat clients for a couple of hours though. Baekhyun does find him close to three hours and his grip is rough on Yifan’s arm. He hisses, narrowing his eyes, “You have to go _entertain_ , I am nice to you but you are costing me.” His expression mollifies a little. “Listen, the prince has been asking about you for the last three days. Did something happen?”

Yifan shakes his head. Baekhyun’s mobile pings and he looks at it, grinning. He looks up again and says, “Speak of the devil. His royal highness is on his way.”

Yifan eyes widen and his breath quickens. Baekhyun picks it up and he looks worried again. Yifan knows Baekhyun isn’t worried for Yifan’s welfare here, not mostly but Junmyeon is a high-profile client. Yifan swallows and says, “Fine, I will, I will head upstairs.”

Yifan doesn’t go upstairs immediately. He heads for the bar and orders a large drink of gin. His hands are shaking and he doesn’t know if he is ready to face Junmyeon. He sits down on the stool and thinks about waiting here at the bar, eyes on the entrance instead. He feels like if he waited at the room upstairs, the silence would kill him. Down here, the noise is deafening but he can’t hear his thoughts. The bass thumps through his body and he can almost pretend the loud thud in his chest is not just his heart.

After a few minutes, the doors part and a short man enters, face mask on. Junmyeon’s hair is not styled up but down, kissing his eyebrows. He is looking over the floor, probably looking for Baekhyun to secure the payment for Yifan’s time. Yifan can stand up and greet him, but his feet feel like lead. Junmyeon then looks at the bar and it takes him a moment, but he spots Yifan.

Yifan swallows, the nervousness setting in more deeply. Junmyeon walks over, and even he is not dressed in his usual expensive suit. Yifan notes he is wearing a large sweatshirt with a bomber jacket on top. His hair looks really fluffy and Yifan almost itches to touch. Junmyeon slides up the stool beside Yifan’s and motions at the bartender to pour him his whiskey on the rocks.

Junmyeon pulls down his mask and sighs, “Yifan, I—” He sighs again, rubbing his face. The bartender puts down the drink and Junmyeon grabs the glass, rubbing his thumb on the condensation. He takes a long sip and he squeezes his eyes as the alcohol burns down his throat. Junmyeon looks as nervous as Yifan feels.

Junmyeon looks away for a moment, to catch his breath or to string the right words. The doors open again and suddenly, Junmyeon gets up on his feet. In his haste, his hand knocks the glass and it almost falls on its side. Yifan grabs the glass just in time. He opens his mouth to say something but then he notices the three burly men at the entrance scanning the crowd. From this distance, Yifan can tell from the symbols on their jackets that they are from the royal family. Everyone knows how the royal family guards look like. He grabs Junmyeon’s shoulder, getting to his feet himself.

Junmyeon turns his head around and his eyes are widened with fear as he says, “I didn’t think they would find me Yifan.”

Yifan shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter. We need to leave, now.”

**Author's Note:**

> yes, chapters.....so see you all later ehehe


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